


Maybe I'm Amazed

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Narry - Freeform, narry au, narry wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall and Harry have been best friends for as long as they can remember, and soon best friends turned into boyfriends and now- well, it’s about to be husbands.</p><p>Or</p><p>A Narry wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe I'm Amazed

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic for this fandom ever, and for Narry. It's for theallegoryofzayn. But yeah, it's my first fic, and I just hope it's not too horrible. Thanks to anybody who bothers to read it, it means a lot (:
> 
> P.S. - In no way do I own One Direction, or think this is real, or whatever. This is just me, writing some pointless fluff for fun.

It’s lunch hour, which is always Harry’s favorite hour at school. He and Liam always manage to eat their food faster than the other kids, so that they can get on the swings first. But unfortunately, Liam is sick with chicken pox. Harry had laughed at first upon seeing Liam covered in those red spots, until his mother had scolded him, and Harry soon realized that without his best friend, he’d be eating alone at lunch. It doesn’t matter that Anne Cox had prepared two peanut butter and fluff sandwiches for him to eat, because Liam wouldn’t be there to snatch his second one and eat it. 

Harry’s contemplating how on earth he’s going to manage to eat two gigantic sandwiches today instead of one, when he notices a kid he’s never seen before. It’s almost surprising, because his school has a small number of students, so Harry knew everyone there by name- whether he liked them or not. He’s never seen this boy with the blue eyes, though. He finds that those eyes remind him of the time that his mother took him and Gemma and Liam to the beach, several weeks ago for the first time- one of his most favorite memories.The kid’s eyes are not unlike the color of the sea that lay past the sand.

They’re also looking incredibly nervous as they survey the cafeteria, the boy looking at everything shyly, as if he feels like he didn’t belong. It’s then when Harry bounces over to him in his brand new sneakers, the ones that light up when you move, curls flying around as he does, a friendly grin on his face that only a seven year old can make. “Hi!”

The other little boy looks taken aback by Harry’s arrival, as if he wasn’t expecting him to talk to him at all. “Hi. I-I’m N-niall. From Ireland.” The tint of an Irish accent is more than obvious, and the blonde- Niall- covers his mouth with his hand, as if he’s ashamed. In response, Harry just gives him a friendly smile and moves his hand to take away the one covering Niall’s mouth. He likes the accent. It sounds cool, cooler than Harry’s voice anyway. “‘M Harry. Nice to meet you, Niall from Ireland. Got to warn you though, the hot dogs they’re selling today bounce right back into your hand if you drop it. It’s nasty.”

Niall’s ocean blue eyes widen more, if that’s even possible, before looking down at the hot dog on his tray. “No way!”

Harry gives a somber nod and takes the hot dog. “Way. Watch.” And with that, he drops the hot dog. As promised, it bounces right back into his open and waiting hand. Niall starts giggling, soft, high-pitched peals of laughter escaping from his lips, until he realizes that the hot dog was his lunch, and an appropriate look of horror settles upon his features. Of course, Harry is there to save the day. “Hey. You’re lucky you’re with me. Because, my best friend is out sick today-” he proceeds to take out the two peanut butter and fluff sandwiches, “-and therefore, there’s nobody but you to eat his sandwich.”

A look of delight blooms on Niall’s face as he takes the sandwich in his hand, before looking over at Harry through his lashes. “You’ll really let me eat your sandwich?”

"Yep!" Harry said, popping the ‘p’. "And if you eat fast enough, we can go to the playground and-"

Niall’s already vacuumed down his sandwich.

—-

Harry Styles stands in front of the bathroom mirror, knuckles white as he grips the sink, head bent as he stares into nothing but blank marble, panting hard. He, Harry Edward Styles, was going to get married today. Married. Tying the knot. Giving vows. Pledging to be with someone else for the rest of his life. Married. And even though he’s certain that he would rather be with no one else but Niall Horan, marriage is… a big commitment. It holds more weight than dating, and he can look at his own parents’ failed marriage to know that a divorce is worse than your average breakup. Especially if you have kids. What was he thinking when he was doing this? What was he thinking? He’s not ready for a big commitment, he’s not, but he’d thought he had been, and he and Niall had been working on this wedding for months, and now the other man was waiting to walk with him down the aisle and-

"Harry?" Liam’s voice pierces through the veil that surrounds Harry’s thoughts, and he distractedly looks over towards the door.

"Don’t come in," Harry says in a very panicked voice that doesn’t sound much like this own.

"Harry-" Liam starts to stay, before being interrupted by Louis.

"Harold, if you don’t open the fucking door now, I will take off the expensive new Italian shoes I got specially for this wedding and kick down the door myself." There’s no joking tone in Louis’s voice. Harry knows that, without a doubt, Louis will do exactly what he promises he’ll do if he doesn’t open this door right now. It is with a reluctant sigh that Harry opens the door, but once he sees his friends, the panic starts to settle in again. It’s blinding, and there’s an animal instinct to run, just run and not look back.

Liam’s always had a knack for speaking the language of Harry Styles. Something flashes in his eyes, and his brown orbs turn stern and fatherly when he says, “Harry, if you even think-“

Louis is slower on the uptake, as he’s not as fluent as Liam is, but he manages to figure it out eventually. “If you try to leave little Nialler at the aisle, Harold, I will personally chase you down, hog tie you so you can’t escape, and kick my foot up your ass for even thinking of such horrible thoughts.”

All Harry can manage in reply to that is, “where’s Zayn?”

Of course, Louis is the one to reply. “He’s with Nialler right now.” Harry’s not all too surprised by this. Although he had been Niall’s first friend (and eventual boyfriend), Zayn had grown to be Niall’s best friend. They weren’t unlike yin and yang, two people who were so different yet got along well anyway. For a long time, everybody, including Harry, had thought they’d been dating. That was until the summer before eleventh year, when Harry had jealously snapped at Niall about it. The blonde had taken his face in his hands and kissed him for the first time in return.

"I can’t do this," Harry blurts out, hands running through his hair, messing up all the effort he’d put into it a few hours earlier as he starts pacing. "I can’t do this, I can’t get married, I can’t do this." 

Then suddenly, Liam is there with a small frown on his face, gripping at his shoulders. “Harry.”

"I mean, what was I thinking?"

"Harry."

"How could I get married? I mean, really truly married, because look at my parents. What if me and Niall turn out like them, I don’t want us to become like them-"

"Harry Edward Styles." At the mention of his full name, Harry falls silent, wide green eyes watching Liam’s serious brown ones. "First of all, breathe. Take a breath. Calm down. Relax."

Liam says it a calm, matter of fact voice, the type of voice that Harry always proceeds to obey. Liam’s always been the quiet one, the collected one, the level-headed one, and this time isn’t much different from the others. Harry takes a breath- his first real, actual breath this morning- and it does serve to make him feel less manic than before. It doesn’t change the panic but it’s more… focused, less chaotic.

Upon seeing this, Liam seems to have gotten a more relieved look in his eyes, but they’re still just as serious as before. To be fair, though, his best friend’s eyes have always been more serious than most. Like Niall and Zayn, they’re the type of best friends that balance each other out- Harry gets Liam to be less antisocial, and Liam is always there to put a gentle hand on his shoulder and remind them that they’re only one pink slip away from Saturday detention. The matter of hand isn’t detention, it’s marriage, but the way Liam’s looking at him now isn’t much different.

"You love Niall. Niall loves you," Liam continues, and Harry tries to interrupt, tries to tell him everything that could possibly happen if things take a turn for the worst, but Liam refuses to let him speak. "And marriage isn’t going to change that. Sure, there’s papers that legally bind you to each other, and maybe you can pay your taxes together now, and maybe it seems all official the moment you say ‘I do’. But in the end, you and Niall love each other more than Paris loved Helen, than Perseus loved Andromeda, than Niall loves Nando’s, and none of this-" Liam waves his hand around the bathroom to emphasize the wedding, "is going to change that. Sure, marriage seems big and scary, but to be quite frank, you and Niall have been living together for years now. By doing this, you’re just making it official that you want to spend the rest of your life with him."

Harry finally manages to swallow the huge lump that had been swelling in the back of his throat for the past hour or so. “I just don’t want to mess it up like my parents did, Li.”

"And you won’t," Liam says firmly. "You and Niall are different from your parents. You know that."

Harry doesn’t know why he’s still searching for reasons to fight against Liam’s logic. “But people fall out of love all the time-“

"-And once you reach that bridge, you and Niall will find a way to cross it. It’s what the two of you do best, yeah? Right now, though, we should focus on the present, not on the what-ifs. And in the present, we’re going to get you walking down the isle, next to Niall."

It’s then when the stallions in Harry’s chest, where his heart should have been, finally slowing down from a racing gallop to the a slow walk. “Yeah. Yeah. We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it. Thanks, Li.” He’s rewarded with a beaming smile from Liam, and a roll of the eyes yet amused smile from Louis.

"Alright boys, now that the little heart-to-heart is over, let’s go get Harold here hitched, shall we?" The blue-eyed boy prompts, and he’s the one to lead the way to where Zayn and Niall are waiting. As soon as Harry’s eyes fall upon Niall, dressed up in a simple black suit, it just… clicks. It’s a cliche way to think about it, but there’s no other way to describe it. Seeing Niall in his suit, his cerulean eyes unusually but understandably bright as they meet Harry’s, it serves to cement his certainty in the wedding in a way that Liam’s wise words couldn’t.

Because it’s Niall whose standing there just before they walk down the aisle, the boy who he’s been practically in love with ever since he offered his other sandwich. Who he grew up with, went to school with, pulled pranks with, and who managed to make his heart flutter in place even though he hadn’t realized it, until his jealousy of Zayn brought it to light. The boy who was his first time, who he could tell anything, who he practically moulded with until they became two pieces of one heart. It wasn’t a stranger he was marrying today. It was Niall James Horan.

Harry wants to tell Niall how beautiful he looks tonight in his suit, but he knows there’ll be time for that later. Bobby Horan and Harry’s stepfather, Robin, come out to lead them down the aisle. If anything, Robin serves to remind him that even though Harry’s mother’s first marriage didn’t work out, her second marriage to Robin has still been going strong for eighteen years.

That’s when the music starts playing, and everyone whose not getting married or leading someone down the aisle rushes to their seats. As their roles of best men, Zayn and Liam go up to stand beside the alter, Zayn joining Sean and Greg, Liam sitting beside Nick Grimshaw. Zayn’s just gotten out of a rough break up with Perrie, but one glance at the way the Louis’s looking at Zayn tells Harry that the dark-haired boy might not be lonely for long. Liam shoots a smile to Sophia, a bright smile on his face, and Harry can tell that thoughts of his own future are running through his best friend’s mind. Gemma sits with her boyfriend and Harry’s parents, the two of them finally getting along for once. Niall’s army of cousins take up an entire two rows of chairs to themselves, and even little Theo isn’t crying for once as everybody turns to watch the couple walk down the aisle.

Harry is first to be walked down the aisle, a bright smile on his face as he hooks his arm through Robin’s, and the older man drops Harry off in front of Maura Horan, who has been appointed the role of marriage officiant in the Styles-Horan wedding after getting her permit through the internet. Then, it’s Niall’s turn to walk down the aisle, and maybe it’s just Harry, but the world seems to stop in place. Time pauses, the wind in Niall’s back yard hovering, the birds pausing in their song, and the world holding its breathe as it stops to admire the man making his way down the aisle with a beaming smile.

This man, with the soft blonde hair and the eyes that remind Harry of heather, the sea and the sky above their heads, with the once crooked smile and the pale skin that freckles and burns all too easily in the sunlight, is his. Niall James Horan is the man he’s marrying today, and no matter how much the world can pause to admire, Niall is his.

Bobby Horan hands over Niall with a smile that’s both joking and reluctant, along a gruff, “take good care of him, will you?” Harry can only nod, words not quite being able to roll off his tongue, which is bad, considering he and Niall chose to write their own vows. The two of them take each other’s hands and Niall’s backyard falls silent, the sun shining brightly as if they asked it to make the day especially nice for them. It’s not the traditional chapel, or a beautiful hotel or the beach or whatever, and if they don’t hurry, the mosquitos will come out. But it’s pretty with the lilies just starting to bloom, and even though it’s not the most exotic place to hold the ceremony, Niall is here and Harry is here and all of the people they love is here, and that’s what makes it as wonderful as it is.

"So you’ve prepared your own vows you two, haven’t you?" Maura says with shining eyes as she looks down upon Harry and her son. He can hear the Kleenex coming out for more than one guest tonight, but all Harry can look at is Niall. Niall, who nods and gives Harry a soft, sweet smile and suddenly he’s nervous because they planned it so the blonde would go first, and Harry’s not quite sure what his soon to-be husband will say.

"I think it was the food that first got me, really." 

It’s not sentimental or cliche or romantic or anything you’d expect to say, so it catches everybody off guard for a second, including Harry. Then there’s a light laugh from the crowd, and Harry pretends to look offended. Really, though, it’s hard, so hard, to keep the wide smile that’s painted on his face.

"I remember when I met you during lunch hour at my first day of school, and you offered me the best peanut butter and fluff sandwich I’ve ever had. Years passed by and for the longest time… I didn’t think that you’d ever loved me the way I loved you. Except you did and, well. Here we are, and you’re about to be my husband." There’s a hushed tone in Niall’s voice when he says the word husband, as if he’s saying something sacred, something he afraid to break in case, like it doesn’t turn out to be true. “And we all know how horribly indecisive I can be, and how I can never make up my mind. But this, marrying you… I’ve never been more sure of anything. Ever. I love you,” Niall swallows, and Harry’s almost tempted to wipe away the tears brimming in Niall’s eyes, but he only watches the other man as his own eyes grow teary as well, “I love you, Harry, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to be the one to marry you.”

Harry hears an orchestra of people blowing their noses, and he knows it’s his turn, but his mind seems to have turned into mush and his throat and tongue have simultaneously have turned rough, like sandpaper. He knows he had written his vows, his beautifully written vows, on an entire index card- an index card- and practiced in front of the mirror for days, but he can’t remember a single thing. He cannot remember one single word on that damn index card, so Harry just thinks, 'fuck it' and decides to improvise.

"I’m going to be honest, I was pretty scared today, before Louis and Liam kicked my ass back into reality," Harry begins nervously, because this isn’t the mushy, romantic, poetic speech he had in mind at all, "because the whole concept of marriage scares me. You scare me too, Niall. Because you’re beautiful and you’re funny and sweet and the most talented musician I’ve ever met, and you’re also probably ten percent of Nando’s business and… you’re perfect. You’re perfectly imperfect, and I don’t know how I managed to end up with you, but I did and- I love you so much, Niall. I love you, and no matter what happens, I know we’ll work through it and- oh, fuck it, I just really want to get it over with and kiss you right now." 

There’s another laugh, but no one’s eyes are dry, not even Zayn, who you can see shedding a few tears behind Niall. It takes a moment for Maura to calm her tears before she says with a watery smile, “well, then by the power of LetsGetHitched.com, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.”

It’s like those words are the words that release Harry and Niall from their invisible chains. Once restraining them, they’ve now vanished, and that’s when the two men lean forward and they’re sharing that fabled kiss. The kiss that makes marriage seem a little more real, and even though Liam says that nothing will really change despite the wedding, there’s something about that kiss. Something happens, call it magic or whatever you will, that happens between the newly weds, something that’s very different from that awkward first kiss you share at the end of the first date. Instead of shying away from it, though, Harry kisses Niall with everything in him. His passion, his love, everything’s in that one little kiss. It’s perhaps the best kiss Harry’s ever had.

That’s when one of Niall’s cousins scream out something along the lines of, “cake!” and Harry and Niall pull away to everybody cheering, and his husband’s- his husband’s- eyes are bright, his cheeks are flushed and his lips are a little more swollen from the kiss. But Harry laces their hands together and squeezes it gently, before everybody heads to the front for the reception.

Harry’s hand, intertwined with Niall’s, stays that way for the entire night.


End file.
